


“Paging Dr. Strangelove: There's a Critical Case in the Blueball Unit.”

by BullySquadess



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, an un-bata'd shitpost, happy birthday hallie, like a literal shitpost, oooooo god this is a shitpost, slight slight slight SLIGHT warning for non-con, ya'll know i dont write non-con so this is really just for safety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:12:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,106
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7295374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BullySquadess/pseuds/BullySquadess
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grandpa Adrien isn't hip with the way the young folks speak nowadays, Ladybug may or may not have planned this whole thing, and Bullysquadess craves the sweet release of death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	“Paging Dr. Strangelove: There's a Critical Case in the Blueball Unit.”

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clairelutra (exosolarmoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Dr. Strangelove, or How Ladybug Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Lap Pillow](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5358965) by [clairelutra (exosolarmoon)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/exosolarmoon/pseuds/clairelutra). 



> Mirthalia had absolutely no part in this so that should really be all the warning necessary.  
> Happy birthday to my Hallie bean, a bean made not of jelly but of Hallie.
> 
> You are a goddamn star.
> 
> (Enjoy sinners)

If he hadn’t known better, Adrien would swear “stargazing” was code for something other than staring up at the night sky.

Having been homeschooled for a majority of his life, it wouldn’t have come as a shock to him if another slang term had managed to sneak its way past his radar. Hell, it taken Nino a week to explain the concept of “on fleek” to him, and Adrien _still_  shivered to recall the disastrous day he’d learned what “Netflix and chill” really meant.

(Apparently, it had something to do with an episode of Power Rangers one moment and a surprise Chloe in his lap the next.)

Adrien wasn’t ashamed to admit he’d freaked out at the incident, dumping his oldest “friend” on the floor in an indignant pile and stuttering out something about snacks before mounting a full retreat to the kitchen. He was a good boy, goddamnit- a pure boy despite his alter ego- and his lap was meant for one Lady only!

Oh right, speaking of laps and ladies and phrases that might actually be code for various sexual acts…

By the end of their patrol, Paris’ heroes had been thoroughly exhausted by another evening spent vaulting around the city and Ladybug had voiced her desire for a short rest. Asking if he wanted to stick around to be her pillow/sky watching partner, she’d settled down on the rooftop and (not bothering to point out there were practically no visible stars due to the city’s light pollution) Adrien had found it impossible to deny her.

_Especially_  with their last “stargazing session” still fresh in his mind.

(He really, _really_  hadn’t meant to nearly molest her in his sleep, but what could he say? A sleepy Chat Noir was a heat-seeking Chat Noir, as vulgar as the statement sounded, and the juncture of his Lady’s thighs turned out to be a beacon of warmth to his comatose self.)

So now, in some twist of fate most likely caused by the fact he was the literal embodiment of misfortune, Adrien found himself in another high noon shootout a scant month after their first. Tumbleweeds blew, church bells rang, and spurs rattled; But this was one stare down he wasn’t likely to win.

Because while _his_  eyes were trained squarely upon the dark, pigtailed head in his lap, Ladybug’s were snapped shut.

Snapped shut and just inches from his staff.

…both of them, as it were.

He’d be lying if he said the thought of her rolling into this position hadn’t crossed his mind when she first settled her head on his lap. With the way things had gone last time, it was only natural for Adrien to consider the possibility. But that thought had merely been one of the idle teenage boy “what-ifs” that tended to plague him when it came to his polka-dotted kryptonite, so it’s not like he’d actually _anticipated_  Ladybug getting all acquainted with his bits and pieces as she snoozed the night away.

He hadn’t anticipated her hand moving to settle in the crevice of his inner thigh, or her face nuzzling into territory she’d only breached in his most shameful fantasies. He hadn’t anticipated her sleepy sigh of contentment or his strained one of panic in return. He _certainly_  hadn’t planned on popping a boner at this, the most inopportune time, but it was just like he said before…

Literal personification of bad luck.

Ignoring both the sight of his Lady curled in his lap and the low heat spiking in his abdomen, Adrien began to strategize.

Waking her up in his current state of excitement had about a 95% chance of turning disastrous, so simply shaking his partner to life with a sheepish “sorry I can’t control my body around you” was off the list.

Next Adrien tried shifting carefully out from under her, but all that earned him was a red suited arm wrapped around his hips, a mumbled, comatose objection and another of his nine lives lost to a mini-stroke.

At this point in their standoff, his mouth had begun to emit a sort of unending whine, like a computer experiencing a fatal processing error, and composure was a forgotten thing. Adrien’s legs shook with the force of him keeping them perfectly still, and the cool night air hissed as it touched the flush surface of his face.

 

He was like the subject of a demented brain teaser:

Q: What’s black and hard and red all over?

A: Chat Noir, on the verge of death by sexual frustration itself.

 

Ladybug was close. Dangerously, _undoingly_  close.

The kind of close that meant she’d only need to stick her tongue out to make contact with the very un-gentlemanly like bulge Adrien was now sporting beneath his belt.

Not that he was thinking about tongues of course! He didn’t even know if Ladybug _had_  a tongue because he certainly didn’t spend hours staring at her mouth and memorizing the exact curvature of her lips!

_‘She definitely has a tongue, dumbass,’_  the voice in his mind (who may very well have been Plagg) reminded helpfully. _‘She uses it to speak and laugh and she could probably use it for other things too but it’s not like you’ll ever find out.’_

The notion should have been placating, but honestly Adrien had forgotten to listen past “she has a tongue.”

Because Ladybug had a tongue. She had a tongue in her mouth. She had a tongue in the mouth that was literal inches from his happy place.

And Adrien needed to _escape._

His plan was simple really; All he had to do was think happy (but not-too-happy, lest he make the situation impossibly _harder_ ) thoughts until he calmed down enough to give Ladybug a distinctly less… _phallic_  wake-up call. Then they would both escape this soft-core porno of a patrol with virtue in tact and he could high-tail it home to defile her in his mind.

You know, the usual.

Keeping his body perfectly still and his eyes trained anywhere but his lap, Adrien retreated into his mind.

Or, as he like to call it, the suffering dome.

_‘No!’_  he chided himself, wagging a strict finger at his depression, _‘Now is not the time for Bad Thoughts™!’_  

_‘But Adrien,’_  his mental illness countered, _‘It’s been at least four days since you’ve had an existential crisis!’_

_‘And I plan on fitting one in next Tuesday, so hush.’_

Thoroughly abashed, the beast retreated; And after making sure it stayed away, Adrien allowed himself to wander. Mentally kicking all the used handkerchiefs and empty tubs of ice-cream left over from his previous episodes out of the way, he found a corner of his brain that didn’t reek of sadness, and buckled down for some serious fun having.

The first pleasant memory he could conjure was, predictably, about Ladybug.

Closing his eyes, Adrien pictured her smile, her _spark_. He recalled the way she’d scratch him behind the ears when he did a good job, or laugh in spite of herself when he managed to come up with a real kicker of a joke. He envisioned her swinging alongside him as they traversed their city together, observed their red and black forms weaving and dipping along-

 Oh no, they crashed into each other! And it looked like Ladybug had him pinned to the ground!

Adrien watched her drew back to survey him, eyes glimmering too dark to be real and mouth twisting into a possessive sort of snarl that _definitely _wouldn’t make him whimper if he were ever to see it in real life. She took his hands into her own, planting them beside his head on the cool asphalt and silently commanding they remain there till she bid them to do otherwise.

There, that was a safe thought wasn’t it? Being pinned and helpless beneath a smirking Ladybug should have been the least arousing image he could possibly come up, right? It’s not like he could actually get _more_  turned on by the thought of her completely overpowering-

_‘Think again motherfucker,’_  little (well, average sized) Adrien Jr interjected, twitching for good measure under the restrictive material of Chat’s suit, “Jokes on you punk because I am 100% about that.”

Adrien Sr. hissed, eyelids snapping open at the sudden burst of arousal, and Ladybug just _had_  to choose that moment to sigh in her sleep, hot breath fanning out over his growing bulge.

_‘Physics homework!’_  Adrien thought frantically, claws scrabbling on the rooftop and mind scrambling to imagine something distinctly less kinky than a quick round of yo-yo bondage. _‘Riding the subway! Flossing!’_

He hyperventilated through the spell, stamping down that animalistic instinct to cant his hips upwards. Meanwhile, Ladybug remained lost to the world, oblivious to the exquisite torture her cheek was inflicting on his inner thigh.

_‘All day fitting sessions. Ads that buffer.’_

Slowly, so very slowly, the distracting thoughts seemed to work. Adrien wasn’t sure if they lessened his erection per say, but they certainly helped divert his attention away, and for that he was thankful.

For the first time in the past few minutes, he could breathe somewhat easily.

_‘Plagg’s stinky cheese.’_

Adrien untensed the muscles in his shoulders, staring up at the stars and letting the cool Parisian air flood his lungs. Each breath calmed him, focused him on that one goal of reaching a state of semi-softness.

_‘Tying my shoelaces up.’_

That’s the spirit, keep going!

_‘Ladybug tying my shoelaces up.’_

Wait no.

_'Ladybug tying ME up…’_

No don’t think about-

‘Ladybug tying me up and then having her way with me. Ladybug moaning in ecstasy as she bounces on my lap. Ladybug clenching around-’

 

“Chat?”

 

For a brief moment, Adrien was under the horrible, _wonderful_ assumption Ladybug had let slip his name in her sleep.

For a brief moment, Adrien almost soiled his suit.

Luckily that brief moment passed, and the feeling of her head turning to peer up at him dashed that assumption until he was almost embarrassed over thinking it in the first place.

Unluckily, Ladybug’s sleepy gaze didn’t linger on his face long, and Adrien’s embarrassment wasn’t merely an “almost” anymore as her blue eyes crossed to examine the lump just inches before her.

They both reacted simultaneously.

“Oh gosh, I’m so-“

“I shouldn’t have-“

“You don’t need to-“

“It’s fine, we-“

Somehow, the two heroes managed to put a good three yards between them in the span of about five seconds, Chat scooting backwards on his tail and Ladybug straight up rolling.

Despite the fact she’d only been awake for a minuscule amount of time, she seemed to get a grasp _(‘Phrasing!!’_ ) on the situation almost instantly, her mask nearly blending in with the hue of her face as she averted her eyes from his *ahem* excitement.

Adrien felt himself go into full apology mode.

“My Lady I am _s-so sorry_. I promise I didn’t mean for this to-uh happen… w-when you suggest it I… I just p-panicked and thought maybe I could calm down enough to slide out from under you! But you were just so warm and... a-and close and-”

“No-no! This isn’t…” Ladybug giggled, that kind of deranged, helpless laugh that was more cry for help than actual hilarity. “This isn’t your fault! I-I was to one who put my head in your lap and then rolled over to… uhhhmmm… n-not your lap. So really you shouldn’t feel bad c-cause that’s totally a normal thing that penises do!”

“My penis works!” Adrien blurted, nodding as if he’d just delivered some sort of divine wisdom upon all mankind. (His brain had effectively shut off at this point.)

“It does!” Ladybug corroborated with a similar nod, voice pitching up an octave, “I saw it!”

“It works like… s-super well!”

“Yep, I bet!”

 

Silence.

 

“…what?”

“Well I should d-definitely be going!” Ladybug squeaked, hands fumbling for her yo-yo as she staggered unsteadily to her feet. “This was fun but- I MEAN… ugh… t-this happened? It happened but I gotta go now and be not here b-but congrats on your working penis- _BYE!”_

Adrien had never witnessed his partner move with more purpose than when she was shooting away from him in that instant, and he might just have marveled at her agility if not for the fact he was still reeling from the sucker punch of her congratulating him on his fully operational _anatomy._

As it was, he could do little more than gape at the empty space Ladybug once occupied, waxing poetic on the true meaning of “stargazing”…

 

…and waiting for his penis be to be a little less “working.”

 

God bless the lap pillow.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> God bless. The lap pillow.
> 
> And God bless Hallie.


End file.
